


What Other People Think

by ionlyjoinedforfanfic



Series: The Good Girl [3]
Category: Wolverine (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Fluff, Public Display of Affection, Some angst, adult relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27161080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ionlyjoinedforfanfic/pseuds/ionlyjoinedforfanfic
Summary: You introduce Donald to your friends, and find you have to deal with the judgement of others.
Relationships: Donald Pierce/Reader, Donald Pierce/You
Series: The Good Girl [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982072
Kudos: 3





	What Other People Think

You had quickly learned that Donnie wasn’t afraid of public displays of affection. Most boyfriends were ok with holding hands and pecks to the cheek - Donnie liked to touch you, hold you. His arm sneaking around to the small of your back, fingers tickling whatever exposed skin they could find, teeth grazing your neck and ear as he nuzzles to you, hot breath a whispering promise of what was to come when you were alone. You longed for his touches, craved them in the emptiness of his absence, yet when you were out, you’d blush at the thought of prying eyes and the judgments of others. Donnie didn’t care if people could see, he didn’t care what people thought. In fact, you thought he relished in it! Flaunting your relationship, showing it off to the world like a prize. 

Now here you were at Joe’s, waiting for a drink, Donnie’s arm embracing you, his hand tucked into the back pocket of your tight jeans. Your arms around his waist, head tucked under his chin able to feel the tickle from his beard or the pressure of soft kisses to your crown, you returned your own to the mouth of the inky skull that marked his neck. It was easy to get lost in your affection when you were shielded by Donnie, protected by his warm, muscular arms.

As familiar and welcoming as Joe’s always was, the presence of live music a couple of times each month seemed to reinvigorate the bar and your attachment to it. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to convince Donnie to finally meet some friends. Actually, it had been much easier than you had expected – as long as you’d promised he’d get you to himself later. It’s not that you never went out (though admittedly most of your time together lately had been spent in the bedroom), but you were always alone, not wanting to share your fleeting and precious time together. Maybe you were just as guilty, wanting to hide him away and keep him all to yourself. Nevertheless, the nagging curiosity of friends and the increasing seriousness of your relationship had forced your hand somewhat, it needed to be done. Besides, you’d break him easy. It was just Krissy and Tom, and the band could easily act as a distraction if things went badly.

They saw you approach drinks in hand, Krissy smiled, and a moment later so did Tom, but not before there was flash of something else. Eyes bulging as he sized Donnie up and who could blame him. You laughed to yourself, you knew what it was that Tom was thinking. It was what most people thought when they were first faced with Donald Pierce.

Donnie was a sight to behold. Tall and muscular so his stature loomed over most, the tattoo of crossed swords below a skull with barred teeth a threat of a violent and skilful past, enough to put anyone in their place. The flash of gold from the heavy skull ring or front tooth as he grinned. Then the arm – cold, dark steel. Even now in jeans and t shirt he looked dangerous. Yet this all seemed tame to when you first saw him, here in this very bar, surrounded by his ‘friends’ as intimidating as he was, seething with anger from the consequence of your own clumsiness.

You beamed back at the pair, “This is Donnie, Donnie this is Krissy and Tom.”

“Nice to finally meet you.” Tom said, half standing in greeting, he held out his hand. Donnie took it shaking it with his own tanned, fleshy one.

“Likewise,”

“We’d been beginning to wonder if you were real!” Tom teased.

Donnie settled in a chair close to yours, his arm automatically draped behind you so that his fingers could brush the top of your bare arm.

“Oh, but we’ve already met,” he said, giving a little nod and smile to Krissy. You had been together the night you met.

She blushed and looked at her lap, “Briefly and not officially.” There was the expected awkwardness of a first encounter, eyes not sure where to settle and chatter about the traffic and weather, though through it all Donnie sat with a confident smirk in his face.

“So, we hear you’re in security, how does that treat you Donald?” Tom finally asked, seemingly a little more at ease.

“Donnie. Good, work’s good. Keeps me away though.” Donnie’s fingers gave a little squeeze to your arm and you felt a familiar flutter of emotion.

“Oh really? Where is it that you’re based?”

Donnie was private about his work, he let you known early on it was something he couldn’t or didn’t liked to talk about so when he leaned back in his chair and took a timely sip of his beer you wondered what he’d say.

“Erm all over, they got me here an’ there. We got facility south of the border...” 

“Wasn’t pharmaceuticals mentioned?’ Tom looked at Krissy and you before adding, “In Mexico?” a mocking grin spread across his face, followed by a grimace as Krissy gave him a sharp kick under the table. Your breath caught a little and looked at Donnie to see his reaction, he was playful enough but you were not sure if he liked to be the butt of the joke. Your worry was for nothing. He simply shook his head and let out that chuckle of his that you loved.

“Aw I think you got me all wrong Tom.” Donnie’s metal hand began to smooth his close-cut beard and clacked his teeth as if debating whether to continue. “Transigen Corporation, heard of it? Medical research more than pharmaceuticals but they got their fingers in a whole load of pies.’

“Do they really need a whole bunch of special forces for security?” Tom was smiling but there was an edge to his voice that wasn’t quite covered by natural curiosity.

“Special forces…hardly,” Donnie scoffed, “Some of my guys are just regular vets looking for a wage. But yeah, we’re needed. Cutting edge stuff, it’s big money, corporate espionage n’ all that. Gotta protect their interests.”

Tom was nodding now, “May be some protesters too?” Donnie cocked his head quizzically, “I mean medical research always gets fair share of animals rights and stuff, I’m sure?

“You bet, we gotta deal with a whole bunch of weirdos.”

“So, no infamous drug cartel?” Tom and Donnie were both laughing, whatever standoff firmly passed, and conversation turned to easier topics.

You excused yourself when you saw the band take it the stage, eager to use the restroom before the set began. As you washed your hands, you were greeted with a half-smile from a familiar face.

“So, I didn’t think I’d see that fella again. Not with you anyhow.” The waitress, Debbie, had been working the night Donnie and you met.

“I know. I didn’t think you’d remember.” That was a lie, the mess you’d made on an already busy night had convinced you that you were on her most hated list.

“Well, he’s not a face you easily forget. Honey, I thought he’d eat you alive when you spilled those drinks.” you giggled, and your cheeks blushed with embarrassment. “Seriously, hun, he doesn’t look your type.” The lines of the older woman’s face filled with worry. 

“Donnie’s a good guy, he’s really sweet when you get past all...” You circled your hand vaguely around, indicating his appearance.

“Hmm, well, all I know is if looks like a duck, and talks like a duck…’

“I’m sorry, what are trying to say?” Your smile replaced by furrowed brow and pursed lips, a lump in your throat.

“Look, hun,” the tone of her voice stifled your bubbling anger, “you seem like a nice girl and well guys like that are trouble, you just watch yourself ok.” Your heart sank as you watched her leave. You placed your hands on the sink bracing yourself, breathing deeply trying to contain your emotions. How dare she? Ok, she seemed genuinely concerned but she didn’t know you or Donnie. She didn’t know anything, she was just venting her own prejudices, her own insecurities - that was all. The music cut into your thoughts with one last check in the mirror you went to seek the comfort of those who mattered.

It was only when you were close to the table that you realised there were two empty seats, “Hey, where’s Donnie?’

“Bar, but I think he went to take a leak.” Tom replied but his eyes firmly fixed on the stage.

“So, what do you think?” You knew it was stupid, but Debbie had riled you up and Donnie’s absence was too tempting not to exploit.

“Interesting guy!” Tom raised both eyebrows.

“What does that mean?” The taste of anger still on tongue.

“He’s different,” Krissy intervened, “Not who’d you’d usually go for.”

“That’s good though right? I mean it’s not like they all turned out great.” You weren’t really sure who you were arguing with - your friends, Debbie, yourself.

“Hmmm, just wouldn’t want to get on his bad side.” Tom chuckled, Krissy kicked, and both stared the other down, exchanging some unspoken dialogue. Eventually, giving up on the silent battle, Tom shrugged and looked back to the stage.

“Look if you’re happy…don’t worry about what anyone thinks.” Krissy’s voice gentle and eyes sympathetic. She paused before adding with a grin, “You can tell he really likes you?”

“You think?” and with that your expression began to mirror hers.

“Yeah he can’t keep his hands off you.” You both giggle, troubles and anger melting away. Krissy was your closest friend and confident and you too could talk without speaking.

“Share the joke ladies,” Donnie returned, holding four drinks with ease, and you laughed again thinking about how all this began. He placed the drinks down but he didn’t sit. “I thought we could dance,” he said, holding out his hand.

“You want to dance?” arching your eyebrow in surprise. He never struck you as type, but you scolded yourself - appearances can be deceptive.

The song was slow and invited you to wrap your arms around his neck, his hand were on your hips, and pulled you close so that you could feel the heat of him next to you - you bit your lip. Swaying you looked at him, he had to arch back slightly to meet your eyes, pressing himself further into you.

“I think I know why you like dancing,” you smirked, and it earned that oh so familiar chuckle and a kiss. “Sorry about before, Tom and his questions…”

He shook his head to bat your worries away, “Don’t sweat it baby. He’s curious. It’s natural. Besides, he’s just looking out for ya’, that’s no bad thing…Nice knowing someone’s got your back when I’m not here.”

“Hmmm I guess. Do you like them then?”

“Huh? I’d rather have you all to myself,” he said, moving his arms behind you drawing you closer still. With that you allowed yourself to be lost in Donnie’s embrace, once again shielded from others and their judgements and it was easy to believe him – it really doesn’t matter what other people think.


End file.
